


The Devil’s Gift

by The_idea_master



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: AU, F/F, Slow Burn, Western AU, plot heavy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:27:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21676747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_idea_master/pseuds/The_idea_master
Summary: Girls weren’t supposed to ride horses, take care of cattle, or even resemble some form of a cowboy or bandit, but Artemis didn’t play by those rules. Growing up she’d been bombarded by religious folk saying she needed to act like a proper lady, the women of the town gossiping about her, and even being insulted in the worst ways possible. She never showed how much it hurt. How the men insisted they could show her what it was like-how it felt-to be a woman. And it isn’t until she stumbles upon a wide open farm field with a single woman dressed in trousers, suspenders and all, with sleeves rolled to the elbow working at the dirt that she’s seen someone like her. She’s vaguely aware of the words coming from her mouth and the slight tip of her hat as she dismounts her horse. All she can think of to say is, “need any help miss?”
Relationships: Artemis/Zoë - Relationship, Zoe/Artemis, zartemis - Relationship
Comments: 32
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

The sun was high in she sky baking the dirt into a hard clumpy mass. The rain had come yesterday, suddenly, uninvited, but more than welcomed. Though the atmosphere was now humid causing Artemis’ hair to stick to her cheeks and the back of her neck, she didn’t mind. People needed the rain. They depended on it for their lively hoods and besides, she got a kick out of playing in it.   
Yeah, being a young adult dressed as she was, stomping about in the mud, and playing with her horse sent rumors flying. She was mad, must have been dropped as a baby, had a bolt loose or two in the head. None of it was new. She’d heard those things since she could understand English.   
“Where are you going?” Apollo asked, stepping outside where his sister was currently packing her saddle bag while Stella the horse chomped on some hay.   
“Don’t know,” Artemis admitted, “wherever the wind takes us and wherever Stella wants to go.”   
“That never works out for you. You get into trouble,” Apollo worried, being nuzzled by the curious horse. “Ah, you smell the butter on my hands. Nothing here. Just bread crumbs.”   
To avoid Stella’s tongue, Apollo hurriedly wiped his hands on his pants. Stella only huffed in mild disappointment.   
“Well, I’m bored, I finished whatever chores father set aside for the both of us, and I don’t want to be here when he gets home,” Artemis explained, tightening the straps to the saddlebag.   
“You should just talk to him,” Apollo suggested.   
“What for? I tried talking to him. He doesn’t listen,” Artemis frowned. She was impatient now. She didn’t want to have this conversation again.   
“You know, what happened to mom-“  
“Was his fault and he knows it,” Artemis finished. “Now either you get on and come with or head back inside.”  
“Your temper will get you killed,” Apollo sighed, but he backed away as Artemis swung up and into the saddle.   
“That’s what Father always says. Hasn’t turned out yet, has it?” The auburn haired twin arched a brow in challenge. Apollo simply kept quiet. Taking his silence as an end to the conversation, Artemis have to clicks of the tongue and Stella set forward.   
The steady drum of Stella’s hooves on the now heat baked dirt was familiar and soothing. Patting her sturdy chestnut colored neck, Artemis dug her heels in ever so slightly spurring their pace forward. Weaving in and out of the town square Artemis tried to ignore the looks of old women seeing on a porch or the mother’s who covered their daughter’s eyes unless they get ideas about freedom.   
Of course, Artemis did, however, have to greet the church with a wide grin and wave of the hat. The priest merely avoided eye contact as she raced by. It was always worth a try. One day she hoped to catch him off guard so badly he actually did wave back. So far it had yet to happen, but she had hope.   
Placing her hat back atop her head, she broke out of the main gate as it was being shut for the evening. As the sun set bandits woke, and Olympus had to be kept safe. Though hearing the string of curses from the gatekeepers always tickled her.   
Once free of the town, Artemis eased Stella into a trot and enjoyed the smell of drying grass waving in the breeze. “This is the life Stella. Just open planes now. Wherever you want to go you can. What do you say? North? East? West?”  
At the mention of West, Stella gave a happy clip clop of the hooves. “West it is. Come on girl!”  
Like usual, Artemis expected Stella to go far. There were times they could barely make out Olympus behind them, times they became part of the horizon, but something had caught Stella’s attention as they ran along that halted her.   
“What is it?” Artemis asked, glancing about in worry. She’d had run ins with thieves before. Stella was usually more nervous though. “Come on, don’t spook me.”   
With a shake of the head, Stella pivoted quite sharply, jostling Artemis in the saddle. It was as if she couldn’t make up her mind on where to go. Then, at last, Stella set forth at a walk. It was slow, hesitant even, but still progress.   
All the while Artemis kept an eye out for any secret threats. Then, as they rounded a small hill she noticed a sturdy looking wood framed house. Out before it stretched a handful of fields all golden with wheat or corn.   
“You wanted a snack? Seriously? We are not eating a poor farmer’s crops,” Artemis chastised, attempting to turn Stella about. But her trusty steed refused and only pressed on. “Stella, if I get shot at because of you I will never forgive you. Farmers aren’t easy going on intruders.”   
Stella’s were gave a twitch and a small neigh tumbled from her chest. She was pleased about something. With a defeated sigh, Artemis gave up on trying to guide Stella at all. She simply sat back and ‘enjoyed’ the ride.   
Minutes passed as Stella picked her way across the tall grass surrounding the fields until she paused beneath a shaded tree. Her ears twitched again but this time Artemis knew why. Someone was humming a faint tune that had obviously pleased Stella. So much so that she’d sought out the source.   
“Get going, font stand here,” Artemis huffed, and Stella made the small journey to another tree where she came to a dead stop. Artemis’ eye caught sight of someone-a girl-bent over working at the soil. Her hair was braided carefully, her skin dark from the sun, she wore trousers and boots, a pair of suspenders, and her sleeves were rolled to the elbow. It was almost like looking in a mirror.   
What’s more, she seemed used to the work. So much so that the poor girl hadn’t noticed their arrival. She was entirely transfixed on the task at hand. If Artemis was being honest, she could’ve watched the girl work all day. There was something mechanical in her movements where not much thought was needed to press the seeds into their little holes and cover them up. Yet, there seemed to be a fine skill in her actions. Like it wasn’t without purpose or care.   
Without much thought, Artemis slipped off of Stella’s back and removed her hat. Not wanting to frighten the girl she cleared her throat before speaking, “do you need any help, Miss?”  
Without missing a beat, the girl spared Artemis a brief glance. At first, Artemis thought she would be dismissed, but then the girl did a double take. She shielded her eyes from the sun and her brow furrowed in thought-no I wasn’t thought-observation! It was observation.   
“What’s the likes of you doing out here?” The farm girl had some form of an accent but it was hard to place.   
“From Olympus. I spend most evenings roaming but I’ve never been this way,” Artemis explained, placing her hat back in her head.   
“Not many people come this way. Few even know about it. So how did you get here?” The girl was defensive, weary.   
“Stella,” Artemis informed, gesturing to the horse which was now using the tree to scratch her side. “You were humming and she liked it enough that she wouldn’t listen when I told her to turn about.”   
“And you raised her by hand?”   
“Yes.”   
“Seems quite stubborn. Aren’t you the one in charge?”  
“It’s a mutual relationship,” Artemis mumbled, scratching at the back of her neck. “Do you have a horse? One for the fields?”  
“No,” the girl nearly scoffed.  
“Wouldn’t it make this much easier?”  
“Perhaps,” the girl nodded, “but I prefer to do things by hand. The farm equipment everyone else seems to enjoy ruins the soul faster than using your hands.”   
“Did your father teach you that?” Artemis asked, rocking back onto her heels.   
“I taught myself,” she replied, “and if you wanted to help why ask so many questions?”  
“You never specified what I ought to do,” Artemis reminded.   
“All the rows I have planted need watering. Your horse can help. There’s a trough that way and some buckets,” the farm girl retorted barely looking up from her work.   
Nodding, Artemis coaxed Stella away from the tree and the two ventured over to the trough. It was nestled alongside the fields’ edge, but most peculiar were the buckets. They had holes in the bottom only covered by a sliding piece of tin. Frowning, Artemis tromped back to the girl wearing her confusion on her face.   
“Are you aware your buckets have holes?” Artemis asked.   
“Yes.”  
“Uhm,” Artemis glanced briefly at Stella as if she would help. “How do I use them?”  
If looks could kill, Artemis would have been dead. It was like she was being seared alive for not know how to use a holy bucket. Taking the second pail, the girl waved for Artemis to follow.   
Once at the trough, the girl dunked the bucket. Nothing leaked from it. She stepped over alongside a row of newly planted seeds, slid the tin cover out of place, and walked alongside the freshly worked soil while water sprinkled from the pail.   
“Won’t a watering can have the same effect?” Artemis asked.   
“They don’t hold nearly enough,” the girl replied. Once he’d bucket was empty, she passed it back over to Artemis and returned to her place in the field. With a shrug, Artemis mimicked what she had seen. Making her way back and forth, to and fro, she eventually came to the end of the field. With some water still remaining she held it overhead and let it sprinkle her hair and clothes. Jealous, Stella lowered her head until Artemis held the pail over her instead.   
“You’re so needy,” Artemis laughed. Giving a big shake of the head, Stella fling droplets of water from her main. Grinning, Artemis shook her head too sending her hat to the ground as her hair became a wild mess. The act sent Stella into a fit of excited trotting and whinnying.   
Stooping down, Artemis went to collect her hat when she caught sight of a set of shoes. Standing upright she was met by a younger girl than the one before. She was paler, with a set of freckles, cinnamon colored hair, and big brown eyes.   
“Are you a cowboy?” She asked.   
“Maybe,” Artemis smiled.   
“I’ve always wanted to meet one.” The girl smirked. “Do you have guns?”  
“Not at the moment,” Artemis replied, crossing her arms and sizing up the younger girl. “Do you have any candy?”  
“No,” the girl replied, crossing her arms and giving Artemis the side eye. “Who told you I did?”  
“No one,” Artemis replied, “but I have some.”   
“You do?!”   
“Want it?”  
“Uh, hell yes!” The girl beamed. She held her hands out expectantly as Artemis rummaged about in Stella’s saddle bag.   
“Cally, you’re supposed to be inside keeping an eye on the bread,” sounded a familiar voice.  
“But a cowboy is giving me candy!” Cally replied. Artemis could hear the pout in her voice even before she turned around.   
“One, she’s not a cowboy. Two, you don’t get candy from strangers. Let alone ones who can ride off on you without second glance.” Artemis was met by those two dark, judgmental eyes for a second time that evening.   
“I wouldn’t hurt a kid,” Artemis frowned, finding her voice. “I’m making a friend. That’s all.”   
“See? She’s a friend.” Cally smirked.   
“Calypso,” the eldest sighed. “Fine, take it. Then get inside and don’t let the bread catch fire. I’m not about to replace the floor boards again.”   
Calypso snatched the candy clean from Artemis’ hand and ran off back to the wooden house pausing to skip in occasion.   
“There’s a lumberjack in town who gives good deals on floor boards,” Artemis noted.   
“I’ll keep it in mind,” the girl replied, but it was clear she didn’t mean it.   
“You don’t like Olympus do you?” Artemis asked, cinching up her saddle bag.   
“Not the town. The people.”  
It was probably the only piece of information the farm girl had given away about herself.   
“I’m one of those people,” Artemis mused, clambering on to Stella’s back. The sun was nearly behind the mountains. It would be dark soon and she needed to return home.   
“No you’re not,” the girl shook her head, “and don’t act confused. You know what I mean.”   
And Artemis did. She wasn’t someone from Olympus. Never had been and never would be, but the fact that this girl seemed to read her like a book piqued her interest.   
“Well, maybe you know me a bit more than I thought,” Artemis smiled, “name’s Artemis. See you around farm girl.”   
Before she could catch any form of a reply, she clicked her tongue twice and Stella took off.   
As the sun set he air cooled, and with it the water hay still clung to Artemis’ clothes. She didn’t mind the chill though, she’d experienced harsh winters before. If anything, this was a cake walk. Nearing the gates, she leapt off Stella’s back mid stride and jogged quickly to the fence. Clambering over with care she leaned softly on the other side. Undoing the crossbeams, Artemis pushed the gate open enough for Stella to slip through. Once she made sure everything was secure like normal, she took her noble steed to the stable.   
“Night Stella. Sweet Dreams,” Artemis whispered, scratching at Stella’s ears. Turning curtly on her heel she slipped inside and padded silently up the stairs to her room. Kicking off her boots and setting her hat aside she slid into bed and passed out like a light. She never expected watering a field to be so exhausting.


	2. Chapter Two

“Up! Up and at it!” A gruff voice broke through Artemis’ sleep as the shutters were pulled open sending in early morning light. “Chores. Let’s go.”   
“I’m going,” she grumbled, sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Just as she began to tug her boots back on she caught sight of her father tromping out of her and down the stairs. “Good morning to you too.”   
With a sigh, she pulled the blankets into place, tugged on her hat, and scurried down the stairs. Apollo was already awake sitting at the table eating toast and jam. He never had chores to do. Chores were a woman’s work. While he helped on occasion it was never when Zeus hung around.   
She reached for a piece of toast on Apollo’s plate when Zeus stopped her, “Breakfast after work. You know that.”   
“Father, she missed dinner,” Apollo reminded.  
“Then she ought to be here next time and not fucking around on a horse,” Zeus sighed, straightening his waistcoat. “Now, I’m off to the bank. No funny business you two. If I hear about anything-“  
“We’ll be fine,” Apollo assured. With that their father left and Apollo quickly slipped a piece of toast into his sister’s hand. “I’ll take the slop to the pigs if you milk the cow.”   
“Why do we have farm animals if father likes to buy most things anyway?” Artemis asked. “Shouldn’t we give them to someone who needs them?”  
“Maybe but you’re too attached. You’d cry yourself to sleep,” the blonde chuckled.   
“I’d visit them,” Artemis protested, watching as Apollo stopped by the door to collect the waste bin. “Is that my dinner in there?”  
“It was cold and not much was left,” Apollo sighed, “father tossed it.”   
“Eh, better the pigs have it. His cooking is worth a horse’s shit,” Artemis laughed, earning a grin from her brother.   
Collecting the empty pail stored beneath the cupboard’s lowest shelf, Artemis made her way to the single cow roaming lazily in the fenced yard.   
“Matilda! Benson!” Apollo called, smacking the side of the slop pale with a wooden spoon. Excited snorts soon signaled the arrival of the two prized pigs. Well, not prized. They were average according to Zeus. He’d hoped for something larger. Something worth eating. What he didn’t know was that Artemis kept them just lean enough so that they wouldn’t be eaten. She’d raised them up and the thought both pigs on her plate made her sick.   
“Alright Winnie, are you gonna be a good girl for me?” Artemis asked, giving a gentle pat to the cow’s rump. She got a long and low moo in reply. “I take that as a yes.”   
Pulling up the rickety stool, Artemis sat down and set to work for the millionth time. She was so used to it now that she didn’t even have to pay attention to what she was doing. In fact, she was thinking about a million other things than milking a cow.   
“What kept you out so late last night?” Apollo asked, leaning on the stall’s wooden wall.   
“Stella,” Artemis replied.   
“She get going on an adventure and stop listening to you?” He mused, glancing over his shoulder where Stella was chewing at some fresh hay.   
“That and a little girl thought I was a cowboy.”  
“Did you crush her dreams and say you weren’t?” Apollo asked.  
“No, her sister did that for her,” Artemis laughed, standing and collecting the pail.   
“Anyone in town by chance?”  
“Nope,” Artemis shook her head, carrying the bucket back towards the house. “I’ve never been there before in my life.”  
“Have they ever been to town?” Was the next question.   
“I doubt it. The older one said she hated the people here. Can’t blame her. Most everyone is a pain,” Artemis admitted.   
“Any brothers?”  
“No, sorry,” Artemis laughed. She knew Apollo fancied men and women but he’d never openly admit it to anyone other than her. Not when he was supposed to inherit their father’s banking business. “Now, get going. Dad will wonder why you’re taking so long to eat. His apprentice can’t be late.” Artemis reminded.   
“I can help with one mo-“  
“Go,” Artemis insisted. “You’ve already helped. I appreciate it I do. But if you make father mad he’ll be angry all week and I won’t hear the end of it.”   
With a hesitant nod, Apollo hugged her goodbye before abandoning his sister and the house. He hurried off in the direction of the bank leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.   
Now distraction free, Artemis ran through the list of things that needed to be done. She had to replace some of the broken shingles, redo the shutters that were rotting away, clean out the stalls, and if she was lucky repaint the porch.  
“Just you guys and me now,” she sighed, watching Benson and Matilda shuffle on past. “Anyone have thumbs and the ability to help? Didn’t think so.”   
— — —   
“Alright Stella,” Artemis breathed, opening the stall door. “Finished it all. Now let’s get going before father’s home and gives me something else to do.”   
In record time, Stella was saddled up and the saddle bags were full of anything Artemis might need. The sun was setting earlier than before, and she made sure to pack her revolver in case it was needed.   
Giving the two click signal, a spur of the heels, and a gentle pat to the neck, Stella left the house behind. Already, Artemis could feel herself relaxing. The wind in her face, the freedom ahead, and the reassurance that she belonged in the world beyond. Not in the walls of Olympus but somewhere else. She just hadn’t found it yet, but one day she would and it’d be thanks to Stella.   
“Go girl, go,” Artemis encouraged. The gatekeepers were hurriedly trying to close the heavy wooden doors before she arrived, but Stella was impeccable and slipped through with nothing but a snort of amusement. “Good girl. Now where to?”  
What Artemis didn’t expect was for Stella to take off West again. This time, Stella knew what she wanted and she wasn’t open to negotiation. Merely a passenger for the time being, Artemis found herself somewhat frustrated as they came to a halt at the same farm as before. Only this time there was no farm girl to greet her. Instead there were yells in the distance and two figures scrambling about.   
“Let’s go,” Artemis encouraged, and Stella trotted slowly towards the slew of curses.   
“I hate chickens!” Calypso cried out, red in the face from exhaustion and anger.   
“What seems to be the problem?” Artemis asked, as Stella came to a halt. A flurry of feathers crossed their path and squawks of distress soon followed.   
“Cowboy!” Calypso grinned, momentarily forgetting her plight.   
“What?” The oldest had two chickens by the feet and she followed her younger sister’s pointing finger until she spotted Artemis. “Do you make a point of bothering people?”  
“Do you always need help?”  
“I have it under control.”  
“She doesn’t,” Calypso interjected. “Coyotes got in the coupe.”   
“Can’t our chickens back in an broken coupe,” Artemis pointed out. The farm girl looked as if she wanted to beat Artemis with one of the chickens if she could.  
“I am aware. I’m simply trying to contain the mess.”   
“Little one,” Artemis smiled, gesturing to Calypso, “show me the chicken coupe.”   
“Okay cowboy,” Calypso shrugged.   
“Stay put Stella,” Artemis warned, slipping out of the saddle and following the younger girl. She gestured grandly at the wooden structure whose wall was splintered. Hah and feathers were strewn about inside.   
“They got some of them,” Calypso sighed. “Not the babies though. I have them.”   
Much to Artemis’ surprise, Calypso opened up the large pocket to the apron of her dress revealing a handful of baby chicks.   
“Well, I’m glad they’re safe with you,” Artemis smiled. “Now, do you have any spare wood? Any tools?”   
“Yeah, in the spooky shed over that way,” Calypso gestured at a sun beaten shed leaning severely to the left. “Careful, there’s spiders in there.”   
“I’ll take my chances,” Artemis laughed. Placing her hat atop Calypso’s head she ventured over to the shed. There were indeed spiders but most appeared to be dead. Other than the amount of cobwebs clinging to the ceiling, Artemis was quite capable of finding what she needed. Grasping the wooden toolbox and an armful of boards she shuffled back to he chicken coupe.   
Plopping her wares down in the dust and laying it all out, she assess ed the damage for what it was. Nearly the whole siding needed to be replaced but luckily the frame was solid. Otherwise, removing the side would cause the whole thing to collapse.   
Scooping up the hammer she set to work on removing the old bent nails. It took a lot more effort than she thought but after a dozen solid pulls the boards were tugged free with ease. Fortunately, the replacement boards were already cut to size eliminating some of the potential work.   
Rummaging about the toll box and collecting a handful of nails, Artemis began to reside the chicken coupe. It wasn’t too long before she was driving in the final nail, but this would do little to prevent a pack of coyotes from getting in. Not when other areas of the chicken coupe were fragile.   
Wiping her nose on the hem of her shirt, she managed to come up with a plan. Heading back to the shed, she found old wire netting. Taking the lot of it she coated the outside of the chicken coupe walls with a thin layer.   
“What’s that for?” Calypso asked.   
“The coyotes can’t get through metal very well, now can they?” Artemis asked. “Even if they break the wood they have to do a number on the wire to get it to break.”   
“Smart,” Calypso nodded. She studied Artemis’ work for a moment more before entering the chicken coupe. “Alright babies, out you go.”  
“I bet they like you,” Artemis smiled.   
“Zoë!” Calypso called, “you can bring the other chickens in! It’s safe now.”   
So that was the farm girl’s name. Artemis tucked that piece of information away.   
“No need to yell to high heaven,” Zoë sighed, bringing in two chickens and setting them gently upon the floor. Calypso watched over them while Artemis and Zoë retrieved the others. “That’s all of them. Well, the ones that survived anyways.”   
“Shouldn’t be any other casualties,” Artemis promised.   
“If there are,” Zoë sighed, “l’ll blame you and pelt you with eggs.”   
“It’s not a joke,” Calypso warned,”she’s done it before.”  
“Then I’ll be prepared,” Artemis snickered. “Now, to get Stella home.”   
“Did your horse bring you back here?” Calypso asked.   
“Yes,” Artemis sighed, “though I don’t know why. I think she might like you.”  
“Sweet, I alway wanted a horse,” Calypso grinned, slipping over to Stella and giving her a pet on the nose.   
“Alright Stella, let’s go. Apollo will be worried,” Artemis mumbled.  
“Apollo? Is that your boyfriend?” Calypso teased.  
“Brother. Twin brother, actually,” Artemis explained, careful not to kick Calypso as she climbed into the saddle. “Men aren’t fawn of-“  
“Cowboys like you?” Calypso asked.  
“You could say that. But I also talk back when I shouldn’t. They don’t appreciate it,” Artemis pursed her lips. “But that’s not something you ought to worry about. Until next time Small One.”   
“My name is Calypso.”  
“I know,” Artemis grinned, “but if I’m Cowboy then you’re Small One.”   
“Deal,” Calypso nodded.   
Sitting straight in the saddle, Artemis caught sight of Zoë watching the interaction from a slight distance away. Giving a small nod and tip of the hat, Artemis set Stella back in the direction of home.   
— — —  
“You didn’t paint the porch,” Zeus noted as soon as Artemis had set one foot on the floor.   
“We didn’t have paint,” she explained.  
“The store isn’t far.”  
“I have no funds.”  
“Ask.”  
“You say no.”  
The two stared at each other in a charged silence for a handful of seconds that felt like painful years. Part of her wanted to let lose a string of insults but Artemis held her tongue.   
“Where were you?” Came his question.   
“Out of town,” Artemis replied curtly.   
“With who?”  
“No one.”  
“You expect me to believe that? No one comes home late at night without having been somewhere with someone,” Zeus glowered.   
“I saw someone in need. I helped repair their chicken coupe.” Though this seemed like a dissatisfying answer for the banker, he found no reason to argue. “Did you leave me something?”  
“It was too cold. I threw it out,” Zeus explained. “But there’s plenty in the cupboard for you to find something.”  
Artemis gave a silent nod as he stood sending his chair scraping across the floor. He said nothing else as he headed to his room.   
“Goodnight,” Artemis called, but there was no response. With a sigh, she rummaged in the cupboard for something worth eating. In the end she settled for a measly meal of bread, an apple, and a piece of jerky. It wasn’t much but it was enough.   
Stretching her arms over her head, she felt her back pop in a few places relieving built up tension. Moving with heavy and tired feet, she found her way to her room. She would have to wash up tomorrow. It’d been too long since she had and she was beginning to dislike the persistent grime and grit on her skin. But bathing wasn’t something one did all the time. Not when other important jobs needed to be done. And certainly not when others had priority over yourself.   
So, after a decent night’s sleep, Artemis woke up far before the sun and slunk outside to where the large tin tub rested. She made far too many trips to the local well and back before the water level was decent enough to bathe in.   
Though she wanted to do nothing but sit in the water and hopefully disappear, that wasn’t an option. After scrubbing nearly every inch of herself, she dressed for the day and clambered back into bed in hopes of getting a bit more sleep. She was nearly out of it when the familiar footsteps of her father told her she had no such reprieve.   
“Get to painting the porch today, would you?” Zeus asked, not checking to see if she was actually awake. That was the only thing Artemis heard before she fell asleep for the second time.  
What she dreamed of was a time long ago when chores were the least of her worries. She could sit on the porch and watch her mother run away from Winnie’s mother who was only a few years old at the time. It filled her small heart with joy.   
She and Apollo would help feed the cow, and they were taught how to milk her, and when they had finished their mother smiled with pride. She wasn’t like the other ladies of the town. She wore boots and pants, a hat, and a vest over her shirt. She enjoyed riding horses and often took them out past the town gates. Those were fun times, carefree times, and Artemis wished they never ended. She’d give anything to have moments like that again. But she never would. That part of her life had come and passed. Just as all things did.


	3. Chapter Three

The store wasn’t a bad place to go. In fact, Artemis liked going there but the only problem came with the other people who frequented the establishment. Folks she didn’t like because they were clear on their dislike for her.   
So she wasn’t too surprised that upon entering the store, a few heads swiveled to stare with searing eyes. But Artemis kept her head up and sidled up to the counter. “Dad wants the porch painted. Color ideas?”  
“White’s always a safe bet,” the woman smiled. She was stunning, with tanned skin, dark hair plaited with care, and eyes the color of damp soil.   
“Perfect,” Artemis nodded. “Hey, uh, how’s Mr. Doomsday?”  
“Hades? He’s fine. Only sulking because your father is being a stickler about giving a loan.”   
“I would say I could butter him up,” Artemis smiled, “but I’d only irritate him more.”   
“The thought counts.”   
Persephone, the former heart throb of the town, had left many a men frustrated that she’d married a pale, black haired, dark eyed, silent type of fellow over their ‘burly, manly, and strong’ selves. Artemis couldn’t have been more pleased. Persephone needed someone as level headed as herself and someone equally as passive unless provoked.   
“You know, I keep waving to he priest. Ever think he’ll wave back?” Artemis smirked, tapping her knuckles on the countertop.   
“Honey,” Persephone laughed, returning from the back room, “it’ll be a miracle if he does and I sure as hell hope to see it.”   
Setting the large can atop the counter, Persephone waved off the complaint of a customer that she was taking to long. Artemis aided in the process by staring down the older woman.   
“Some people need to be less impatient,” she sighed, “but let’s talk business. How much for the paint?”  
“No charge.”  
“Blasphemy,” Artemis grinned, “you can’t do that. I won’t let you.”  
“I don’t take no for an answer young lady,” Persephone insisted. “If you want to repay me then whenever you have the time take Cerberus out on a walk.”   
“I’d love to,” Artemis beamed. She loved the large dog with all of her heart. There’d been a handful of times when he’d escaped and she had to chase him about the town until she could get him back.   
“Then it’s settled. I’ll tell him and he’ll be very excited,” Persephone joked.   
With a little tip of the hat, Artemis took the paint can and left. She was careful not to drop it on the way home and after searching for the wide paint brush set to work. It was difficult, however, to keep Benson and Matilda from trying to eat the paint.   
“It’s not for you,” Artemis huffed, gently nudging Benson away as he tried to sneak up on the paint can. “I’ll put you in with Winnie if you won’t behave.”   
This seemed to steer Benson away at least for the time being. Without the threat of accidental pig paint consumption, Artemis was able to breeze through the paint job with ease. It was relaxing to say the least, and if it was all she really had to do for the day then so be it.   
When the first coat was done, she let it dry in the evening sun. Unfortunately, today was not a day for adventuring because the sun was already setting and the second coat needed to be done. Though it did little to motivate her, she’d at least be home for dinner and be able to turn in early for the night. Stella would just have to forgive her.   
“Mighty fine job little lady,” Apollo teased, stepping into view and setting his hands on his hips while examining his sister’s work.   
“Why thank you,” Artemis laughed. “It was a chore keeping Benson and Matilda from eating the paint.”   
“That can’t be good for digestion,” Apollo agreed. “Wanna come help make dinner?”   
“Sure,” Artemis nodded, “just let me wash up.”   
Placing the lid back on the can to protect the remnants of paint, Artemis headed inside and washed her hands in the small basin of water they kept by the back door.  
“We got beans,” Apollo noted, setting a bowl of them upon the table, “corn, corn bread, and beef.”   
“Chilli?” Artemis asked.  
“That’s the plan, though we don’t really need the corn,” Apollo thought aloud. “Can I give it to the pigs?”  
“Why are you asking me?” Artemis laughed.   
“I know you keep them just thin enough not to be eaten,” Apollo noted. “Wanted to make sure I wasn’t affecting their diet.”   
Rolling her eyes, Artemis gave him a playful shove and nudged him to the door. “They’re fine.”   
The two spent the rest of the evening fighting over kitchen space and sharing a laugh or two until Zeus returned home. He was more than surprised to see Artemis there but was quick to hide it.   
An awkward silence filled the space as he took his place at the table. Apollo avoided eye contact as much as possible. He knew Zeus wasn’t fond of him cooking their meals, but Artemis usually wasn’t there to be yelled at for shirking the job onto her brother and someone needed to do the job anyways. He could do a non manly deed if it meant she got a break.   
Setting the table, both twins took up their own spots. It was strange for Artemis to be eating something warm let alone fresh, but she also found it unbearable in the silence. She wanted to talk freely with Apollo but there were things she could get away with in private that wouldn’t fly when expressed at the dinner table. As a result, she are slowly, trying to prolong the time until her father left. Instead, he got talking to Apollo about the bank but Apollo was only half listening.   
Grudgingly finishing her dinner, Artemis cleaned her own dishes and ventured upstairs. She’d have to find another way to spend time with Apollo.   
— — —  
“Come on Cerberus,” Artemis called. She watched the large dog tromp along behind Stella occasionally chasing after a butterfly or cricket. “Don’t go getting bit by any snakes.”   
Cerberus gave a mighty bark and pulled up alongside his temporary care giver. His tongue dangled from his mouth and his coat jostled with each step. He was a beautiful dog, but rowdy.   
“Cowboy!” Cried a familiar voice. Artemis looked up to see Calypso wielding one of the holy buckets. “You brought a dog! Is it yours?”  
“No,” Artemis laughed, “just borrowing him.”   
Cerberus bounded over to Calypso and sent her toppling into the dirt with a series of barks and licks.   
“You didn’t come yesterday,” Calypso rebuked, gently shoving Cerberus away. “How come?”  
“I have responsibilities,” Artemis pointed out.   
“That’s dumb,” Calypso frowned, her nose wrinkling adorably. “Hey, what’s this big boy’s name?”  
“Cerberus.”  
“Oooh, I like it!” Calypso decided, getting to her feet and running off. She’d forgotten entirely about her chore. Shaking her head, Artemis guided Stella to the house at the far end of the fields.   
Cerberus ran by in a flash chasing after Calypso who darted about the house’s corner. “Zoë, the Cowboy brought a dog! Look!”  
“Cally,” Zoë groaned, as Cerberus came running back around with a dress stuck in his head.   
“Sorry, I drift you were hanging laundry,” Calypso’s voice sounded sheepish.   
“Cerberus, heel,” Artemis called. The large dog obeyed and sat promptly in the dirt. Sliding off of Stella’s back, Artemis collected the garment and went around the back of the house to return it. “He didn’t get far. He’s a much better listener than Stella.”   
“Well, at least there’s that,” Zoë sighed, taking the item of clothing and tossing it back into the pile of dirty items. “So, what brings you here this time? Your horse again?”  
“No, actually,” Artemis smiled, “I had leftover paint from yesterday. My father had me working on the porch. I wondered if you might want it.”   
“Sure,” Zoë replied, barely sparing Artemis a glance.   
“Now we can paint the shutters!” Calypso cried, jumping up in celebration.   
“Yes, but only I do the inside panels. We don’t need you slopping it all over the floor,” Zoë warned.   
“Sheesh, you act like I’m useless,” Calypso frowned.  
“Nor useless,” Zoë corrected, her demeanor softening, “just young.”   
“You’re not that old you know,” Calypso pouted. “I’m nearly your age.”   
“I’m nearly twenty and you’re twelve,” Zoë informed.   
“It’s not my fault dad had me late.”   
“If it makes you feel better I’m older than my brother,” Artemis smiled, “and I never let him forget it.”   
“Minutes are not years,” Zoë snorted.   
“Minutes aren’t years,” Calypso mocked, setting her hands on her hips.   
“Easy there Small One,” Artemis mused. “Don’t be rude. She takes care of you.”   
“I’m an independent,” Calypso insisted.   
Zoë only shook her head and communities pinning up clothes to dry. Artemis meanwhile retrieved the extra paint from where she’d fastened it carefully to Stella’s saddle bag.   
“Did the chicken coupe stay in on piece?” Artemis asked.  
“Yep,” Calypso nodded, “you had a good idea with the metal wire stuff. I checked on all the baby chicks this morning and they just go ‘peep peep peep’ all day long.”   
“Clothes are done,” Zoë sighed, “did you finished your chores Cally?”  
“Oh crap!” Calypso turned swiftly about and ran off towards the field again. She was quick to collect the pail she formerly abandoned and set to work at watering the ground.   
Zoë watched her briefly from afar before turning her attentions elsewhere. She either forgot Artemis was there or made a point in ignoring her.   
“So,” Artemis began, keeping pace with the other girl, “does your father or mother work late?”  
“My mother’s dead and my father is absent,” Zoë explained quite curtly.  
“Oh,” Artemis blinked in surprise, “I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t know.”  
“Why would you know of my mother?” Zoë laughed. “No one does. But all of Olympus knows my father.”  
“Who is he?” Artemis asked curiously.   
“He’s in prison,” Zoë replied, “has been for nearly a decade. The banker caught him committing fraud, filed a case, and now he’s serving an ungodly amount of time in jail for it. Not that I hate the banker for doing it. My father wasn’t a pleasant man.”   
“My...uh, my father is the banker,” Artemis admitted shyly. This seemed to spark Zoë’s attention.   
“You? The banker’s daughter?”   
“That’s what everyone seems to think,” Artemis smiled faintly. “But it’s true. I’m not a liar.”   
“Well, aren’t you just full of surprises,” Zoë snorted, collecting an empty basket and journeying over to a small clump of trees not far from the house. “A banker’s daughter.”  
“Listen,” Artemis sighed, “I’m getting the impression that you’re defensive-“  
“What gave it away?”  
“I just want to know why. I can go,” Artemis offered, “it’s not a problem.”  
“What I don’t understand is why you insist on helping people who didn’t ask for your help,” Zoë countered, pausing on the outskirts of the small grove of apple trees. “I can manage things on my own thank you very much. I’ve been doing it for nearly a decade and I haven’t asked for help from anyone. This place doesn’t need fixing, it isn’t broken, and I am quite capable of running a farm by myself.”  
The onslaught of hostile words left Artemis speechless. She struggled to process all that had just been thrown in her face. “I only offered to help because...well, people don’t really help each other in Olympus. It would make life easier if they did but they don’t. And my help isn’t a sign of your incapability.”   
“Is it a way to make yourself feel better? Or so you don’t feel sorry for us?” Zoë frowned, reaching up blindly and snapping an apple from its branch.   
“I like being useful, that’s all. And I was curious. I didn’t really know places existed so close to town that still remained independent,” Artemis explained, feeling quite out of her element at the slew of questioning.   
“The only reason places like this get sucked up into your town is because they buy us out, starve us out, and chase us out. They don’t buy what we grow and we’re forced into the system for survival’s sake or forced to leave,” the farm girl’s expression was one of quiet fury.   
“I didn’t know that,” Artemis shrugged, “I’m sorry. It can’t be easy.”   
“Pity gets no one anywhere.”  
“Empathy does.” There was a moment of pause in their conversation. “I’m used to work. I do it everyday from sun up to sun down. I only get away at sunset and I’ve chosen to come her to offer my good graces and make someone’s life a bit easier than my own. Is there a sin in that?”  
“No, but what’s your motive?”   
“None. I just like being away from home, and frankly the wild can be lonely. It’s nicer to have company even if they don’t like me,” Artemis explained, subconsciously holding her hat in her hands as a sign of sincerity.   
“Fine,” Zoë huffed, “if you’d like to help when you can then come at sunset. I’ll find something for you to do, but if you put any adventurous ideas in Cally’s head I’ll shoot you. She’s not old enough to be out alone yet.”   
“I won’t,” Artemis promised.   
“Good,” Zoë nodded, “now get the dog and go before she starts pestering me for one.”  
Stifling a laugh, Artemis gave an understanding nod and collected her steed along with Cerberus. “So long Small One.”   
“Bye Cowboy,” Calypso waved from the porch of her home. Cerberus gave an excited howl and took the lead. Stella followed closely behind.


	4. Chapter Four

Artemis wasn’t prepared for the damaged fence. At least, not after she’d spent all day painting it. But there it was, broken and splintered with paint chips everywhere.   
“What happened?” Artemis demanded, standing still with wide eyes beside Apollo.   
“Wagon accident,” Apollo sighed, having panicked and crammed both Matilda and Benson in with Stella so they wouldn’t escape.   
“Damn it,” Artemis cursed, chucking her hat into the dirt. “You’re fucking shitting me!”  
“Hey,” Apollo spoke softly, “I’ll fix it up with you when I get home from the bank. I promise.”   
“Don’t bother,” Artemis muttered, kicking her hat across the yard. Saying nothing else, she marched over to the large shed and flung the door open nearly ripping it from its hinges. Rummaging about inside, she scrounged together all the supplies she could.   
Apollo lingered for a moment, watching his sister work in her quiet rage. Then, with a small sigh, he left and headed for the bank.   
Collecting and tossing aside the broken boards, Artemis tore the fence posts from the ground and examined their holes. They were a little shallow now. Time had worn away the ground.   
Shovel in hand, Artemis dug up fresh soil and piled it carefully off to the side. Then, selecting the post of her choice, she planted it firmly in the ground, filler in empty space, packed in the soil, and repeated the process.   
Slowly, the new fence began to take shape, but as time passed the sun grew hotter. Impossibly hot. Sweat dripped from Artemis’ brow as she hammered in one of the few remaining boards.   
“Such a shame,” came a low drawl.   
“Get off of my property,” Artemis growled, looking up to glare daggers at a wolf like man. His eyes were narrowed and his ragged coat hung to a thin frame.   
“This ain’t yours darling. It’s got daddy’s and my feet ain’t touching the grass,” Lycaon smirked.   
“Listen buddy, I have a hammer,” Artemis sneered, standing up and adjusting her grip on the hammer’s handle.  
“Is that a threat?” Lycaon asked, arching a brow.   
“It’s a warning.”   
“Careful, I know the sheriff,” Lycaon reminded.   
“The sheriff can kiss my ass!” Artemis frowned, watching the lanky, smelly, wolf like man walk slowly along the fence line.   
“I’ll be sure to tell him,” Lycaon cooed, tipping his hat and heading on his way.   
Muttering to herself, Artemis tried to focus back on the task at hand, but her mind wandered. She’d promised to meet Zoë at sunset to help with the farm, but the chances of that happening were slim to none now.   
— — —  
That night, Artemis suffered the consequences of her day in the sun. Her skin was red and tender in all areas she hadn’t covered with clothing.   
“Arty,” Apollo sighed, doing his best to be gentle in rubbing aloe across his sister’s sunburned skin, “you’ll be lucky if this doesn’t blister.”   
“I know,” Artemis mumbled, wincing slightly as one of Apollo’s nails grazed across a burn.   
“Sorry,” Apollo worried. “There. That should be all. We can do this again tomorrow morning.”   
“Thank you,” Artemis smiled faintly.   
“Hey,” Apollo ventured, “you okay? You seemed anxious today.”  
“I uh...I needed to help a friend and I didn’t,” Artemis explained. “I fixed the fence instead.”   
“You know it could’ve waited.”   
“That’s a lie Apollo,” Artemis shook her head. “Don’t act like father wouldn’t fly off the handle if things weren’t fixed when he got home.”   
“I wish you two would come to an understand-“  
“There’s no understanding to be had, Apollo. This is my job. I’m a woman. I stay home and I do what I’m told. Maybe fixing a fence is man’s work but father doesn’t care so long as he doesn’t have to do it. Talking about it?” Artemis laughed bitterly, “That’s a child’s idea.”   
“I just want you to be happy,” Apollo admitted.   
“I haven’t been happy since mom-“  
“You need to try. Don’t live in the past Arty. It’s killing you.”   
Silence settled between the siblings for impossibly long. And although Artemis was angry, she wasn’t necessarily angry at her brother. “Goodnight, Apollo.”   
“Goodnight,” Apollo spoke softly, avoiding eye contact with his sister as she ventured upstairs to her room.  
That night, Artemis lay awake, uncomfortable and in pain both from her sunburn and the memories Apollo had stirred. She recalled spending summer evenings beneath a large tree sprawled out in tall grass with her mother. The way she would laugh at Artemis’ curious questions and how they’d make shapes out of the clouds passing by. Those days were something Artemis couldn’t forget. In fact, she didn’t know what life was like without missing them.   
Sure, Apollo loved there mother, but it was different for her. There was something exponentially larger that she was missing. It wasn’t something Artemis could explain but she could feel it in her very bones. She’d been deprived of a life she should have had. She had memories taken before they could even be made.   
But staying awake that night gave Artemis the opportunity to hear a conversation she would have otherwise missed.   
“Dad,” Apollo insisted, “she needs a break. Just one day. One evening of freedom.”   
“Absolutely not,” Zeus hissed. “One day and she’ll be riding off into the wilderness just like-“  
“She’s unhappy. She’s so...she’s so sad all the time,” Apollo interrupted. “This isn’t fair to her.”   
“You think it’s fair for all the other women of Olympus to see your sister riding off every evening to do who knows what while they have responsibilities?” Zeus asked.   
“They like their responsibilities. They hate Artemis because she doesn’t. You’re not-you’re not even making a fair comparison,” Apollo stammered.   
“Enough. Not another word about it or you can kiss your wages goodbye,” Zeus threatened. Apollo gave some small noise of protest before keeping quiet.   
Artemis had to give him credit for trying. Apollo rarely got into arguments, let alone with their father, and he’d fought on Artemis’ behalf when he had no reason to. She’d have to thank him in the morning.   
— — —  
Unfortunately, Apollo’s valiant effort to defend his sister resulted in another day spent doing chores. There was no room for an evening adventure. Artemis didn’t even attempt to try and escape because if she did, she’d only make Zeus angrier. But all the while she was worrying. Worrying about young Calypso waiting impatiently for her to show up, that something horrible had happened to the farm, and that somehow it was her fault.   
It was stupid to have such fears but they were there and she couldn’t shake them. Hell, she’d only known the two sisters for a short time but she felt responsible for them. Partially because it was Zeus’ fault they had to fend for themselves in the first place, and partially because Artemis hated breaking promises. She had to uphold them because, well, no one had ever upheld a promise for her that actually meant something.   
So, on the third day that Zeus decided to make his daughter so busy she wouldn’t get a chance to breathe, Artemis threw in the towel. She was done. If he needed something fixed, painted, cooked, stitched, or made, Zeus would have to do it himself.   
Slipping out to the stable, Artemis didn’t even bother putting on Stella’s saddle bag, and instead climbed atop her noble steed and set out for the gates of Olympus. She ignored the protests of the guards and as soon as the large doors were cleared, she spurred Stella forward towards the farm.   
When they arrived, Artemis was surprised to see everything in perfect order. No, not surprised, but relieved.   
The chicken coupe was still in tact, the fields had been watered, the laundry taken down and folded, and the apple trees were looking rather bare as if they’d recently been picked. Swallowing tightly, Artemis coaxed Stella towards the house.   
All was quiet, as the auburn haired girl left Stella to graze near the porch as she ascended the steps. Knocking lightly upon the door, Artemis waited anxiously for a response. There was no answer.   
“Hello?” She called, eyes scanning the windows for signs of a young Calypso peeking out at her. Nothing. “Listen, if you’re mad at me I understand. I-I didn’t mean to be absent the past few days. My father’s kept me too busy to-“  
The door opened slowly to reveal a rather betrayed looking Calypso. “What is it?”  
“I, uh, I promised I’d come by didn’t I?” Artemis asked.   
“Yeah,” Calypso frowned, “two days ago. You’re lucky I answered the door. My sister wants nothing to do with you.”   
“Can I talk to her?” Artemis asked.   
“Nah,” Calypso shook her head, “but you can talk to me.”   
“Okay,” Artemis nodded, “will you tell her that I’m sorry I didn’t show up the past two days despite my promise? My father is particularly upset with me and he’s kept me so busy I can scarcely leave my own home. I’ve been anxious to get back here and help like I promised, I swear if I have, but...life is complicated.”   
“I understand, Cowboy,” Calypso sighed, resting her head on the door, “but you can’t let your daddy tell you what to do. Aren’t you an adult?”   
“Yeah,” Artemis mused, “but things are different in Olympus than they are here.”   
“Oh,” Calypso frowned. “Why?”  
“I don’t know,” Artemis admitted. “Just, make sure she knows I’m sorry.”   
“I will,” Calypso promised, looking left and right as if she were to commit a crime before giving Artemis a tight hug. “Bye Cowboy.”   
“Bye, Small One,” Artemis smiled. She was surprised to say the least, that Calypso would so willingly hug her, but it was the kind of gesture Artemis needed. It reminded her that there was still a little bit of kindness in the world.  
Letting go as quickly as she’d latched on, Calypso hastily shut the door leaving Artemis standing on the porch. Pursing her lips, Artemis lingered for a moment, before turning on her heel and collecting Stella. She did her best to make the ride home last as long as possible. The wrath of her father would not be kind, but she didn’t care in that moment. All that mattered was that someone forgave her of her mistakes. Even if that someone was a twelve year old farm girl.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s short and not very good but I figured I’d have some fun and get back into this!

“When I give you something to do, you do it!” Zeus snarled. “You don’t go riding off to who knows where acting like some rebellious buffoon.”  
“I have limits,” Artemis glowered, aware of Apollo nervously watching them from the table. “I cannot exist solely to work. If you want something done do it yourself.”  
“You watch your mouth. I provide for you. I gave you this house to live in and I give you the food on that table-“  
“You didn’t build this house by yourself!” Artemis protested, fists clenched. “You had help. You had mom. And you don’t give me shit. You toss my food in the garbage for the pigs.“  
“If you don’t like it then go.” Zeus’ eyes looked like storm clouds were dancing around inside of them.   
“You won’t be able to live without me,” Artemis snorted, arms crossed.   
“Watch me,” Zeus spat. “I lived without you for years. Your mother and I both did. In fact, she may have been happy here if it weren’t for you.”   
“Take that back.” Artemis’ voice trembled. Her anger was gone in a flash.   
“She liked roaming as much as you did but the moment you were born she was tied down forever. Destined to be miserable,” Zeus insisted, his smoldering gaze burning into Artemis’.   
“That’s not true and you know it. She loved us. She loved me.” Artemis whispered, unable to fight the tears in her eyes.   
“She loved the idea of you. That was it. Nothing more, nothing less. You were a liability!”   
Silence settled over the room that was louder than any thunder Olympus had ever heard.   
“Maybe she couldn’t stand someone like you. Someone suffocating and rigid and cold. No one wants to be married to a corpse.” The Auburn haired girl but at her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. “There’s no point in trying to find life in something already dead. If she stayed you’d have killed her like you’re killing me.”   
Before Zeus could mutter anything else, Artemis ran from the house and to the stables. There, she managed to saddle Stella up quicker than she ever had before, and set off for the edge of town. Part of her knew that she wasn’t really going to vanish. She couldn’t do that to Apollo, or Winnie, of Matilda, or Benson. They all needed her. But she wanted her father to be afraid. To feel some real fear at the thought of losing her.   
“Come on Stella,” Artemis mumbled, wiping her nose on the back of her sleeve, “let’s ride.”   
— — —  
“Hey there Cowboy,” a soft voice whispered. Artemis blinked harshly against the sunlight. Calypso’s young and freckled face came into view.   
“Small One?” Artemis rasped.   
“Zoë found you out here last night. What happened?” Calypso asked as Artemis processed her surroundings. She was beneath a tall, wide tree with a blanket tucked about her and a folded blanket beneath her head.   
“Nothing...” Artemis swallowed. “I guess I fell asleep in the saddle or something.”   
“Well, did you whack your head or something?” Calypso frowned, sitting back on her heels.   
“Maybe,” Artemis admitted, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I should be going though. I have to get...home.”   
“No! Stay for breakfast,” Calypso pleaded.   
“I can’t Small One,” Artemis shook her head, “your sister doesn’t want me here.”   
“If she didn’t then why’d she give you a blanket?” Calypso asked, arching a brow. “She just...she’s a prideful person. That’s all. She doesn’t trust easy. But that’s not the point. The point is that I’m inviting you to breakfast and it’s rude to say no. That’s how hospitality works.”   
“Okay, okay,” Artemis smiled faintly, “I’ll stay. Just because you asked nicely.”   
Grinning from ear to ear, Calypso tugged Artemis to her feet, and taking her by the hand tugged the cowboy to the house. Tromping up the front steps, Artemis hesitantly followed Calypso inside.   
The place was cozy. It had a low ceiling, shuttered windows, a few chairs and cushions, a nice fire place, and two small rooms branching off to the right. In the kitchen was a tiny table, and a small stove.   
“Cally-“ Zoë started, turning around with a plate of eggs only to freeze when she saw Artemis.   
“Morning,” Artemis stammered, taking her hat in her hand, “ma’am.”   
“Did you invite her for breakfast?” Zoë glowered at her younger sister.   
“Maybe,” Calypso admitted with a coy shrug. “Oh come on, she’s hungry! Look at her! She had a tough night Zo. Please? Let the Cowboy stay.”   
“No,” Zoë insisted, her voice firm along with her expression. “She can manage on her own.”  
“Why are you turning her away like Olympus turned us away?” Calypso demanded, her brown eyes earnest. The two siblings held each other’s gazes for some time before Zoë looked away. Her dark eyes smoldered as she regarded the auburn haired girl.   
“You’re lucky she likes you. If I had my way I’d have left you out there.”  
“Thank you for the blankets,” Artemis blurted. This took the other girl back. She looked almost embarrassed.   
“Whatever. I’m not gonna have someone’s death on my hands because they were stupid enough to be on the plains at night without anything to keep warm.” Zoë glowered, passing the plate of food over to Calypso who eagerly took it to the table.   
“If that’s your way of calling me stupid I’ll accept it.”  
“You can stay after on one condition,” Zoë replied, ignoring Artemis’ remark.   
“And what’s that?”   
“You stop showing up when you aren’t wanted.”   
“That’s unfortunate. She seems to want me around a lot.” Artemis mused, gesturing to Calypso who wore a shit eating grin. “And maybe, just a little bit, you want me around too.”   
“What makes you say that?”  
“You’d have shot me by now if you didn’t.” Artemis grinned.   
“Oh, I want to. But I have my own reservations about murder,” Zoë frowned. “Unfortunately for me it doesn’t allow me to shoot Cowboys.”  
“I said she couldn’t,” Calypso bragged. “I like them so she can’t shoot them.”   
“Your dynamic is...strange. I love it,” Artemis laughed, taking the seat beside Calypso. For once, she had no chores to worry about, and God was it amazing.


	6. Chapter Six

"So, why did you fall asleep outside last night?" Calypso asked, eagerly shoving a forkful of eggs into her mouth.   
"Uhm, it's complicated," Artemis winced.   
"Cally you don't ask people those sorts of questions," Zoë sighed, placing her face in her hands. "I've told you that before."   
"Right, well, it's too late to take he question back so...yeah," Calypso smirked, not caring that she was talking with her mouth full.   
"Let's just say, I don't get along with my father," Artemis explained, "and so I decided if he didn't want me to stick around then I wasn't going to."   
"Sounds like a jerk," Calypso frowned.   
"Yes, well, he is," Zoë muttered, staring intently at the table.   
"How would you know?!" Calypso snorted.   
"My dad kind of put your dad in prison," Artemis blurted out. "In-in case you didn't know..."  
"So? Our dad is an ass!" Calypso shrugged.   
"Cally." Zoë reprimanded again.   
"What?! He is! I may be young but I'm not stupid okay?" Calypso argued.   
"He's still our father whether we like it or not," the oldest girl insisted. "Besides, you don't know half of anything that happened."  
"Because you won't tell me."   
"It's better that way. Father won't hold it against you," Zoë reminded. "What you don't know is a gift."   
"I mean, how-how long has your father been in prison?" Artemis asked carefully.   
"Forever," Calypso replied flatly.   
"I've lost count," Zoë agreed. "It doesn't matter though. He won't be getting out anytime soon unless he sweet talks the parole officers."   
"See, now I'm confused. Don't you want him out?" Artemis wondered aloud.   
"Like you said, it's complicated," Zoë muttered. "Are we done here? I'll clean up."   
"You didn't even eat anything," Calypso protested, lunging to cover what remained of the food. "Which is fine I guess, but I'm not finished yet. Are you, Cowboy?"  
"Uhm. No. Not really, but I can take care of my own mess. You don't have to worry about me," Artemis promised.  
"I wasn't going to," Zoë replied coldly. "Bring me your plate when you're done, Cally."   
"I will."   
— — —  
"So, if you aren't going back home you can just stay the night. I have a spot on the floor I can make up for you," Calypso decided, following Artemis outside.   
"I don't think your sister would like that very much," Artemis smiles gently.   
"She doesn't like anything anymore. She's so grumpy all the time! It's annoying," Calypso pouted, kicking up dirt and stones as she walked.   
"Go easy on her, okay?" Artemis sighed, stopping to look at the young girl. "It's hard being the older sibling. Trust me, I know. There's a lot you might take for granted."   
"Maybe you're right, but still..." Calypso shrugged, her sentence trailing off. "Welp, I'm gonna ask her anyways."   
"That's not what I meant," the auburn haired girl groaned. But before she could do anything Calypso had already taken off back towards home. Artemis, in the mean time walked the fields.   
She enjoyed the breeze and smell of soil baking in the sun. She liked the sound of leaves brushing against one another and the twittering of birds in the large oak across the way. It was a pleasant place. Quiet and very much its own character.   
"She said yes!" Calypso yelled across the field from the porch. But Artemis knew it wasn't a good kind of 'yes'. It was the 'yes' parents gave their kids just to get a moment's rest. Though Calypso's excitement made it difficult for Artemis not to find some sort of joy in the idea.   
"What am I going to do with that kid, Stella?" Artemis asked as Stella trotted over. Her trusty steed seemed less interested in answering her rider's question and more interested in where her own breakfast was. "I know, I know. I'll get you something. Just be patient okay?"  
Stella gave a snort of protest.   
"I know. If we were home it wouldn't be an issue but we aren't. I get it. You actually miss your stall for once but I'm not going back. Not until we've at least scared him a bit."   
Stella seemed to accept this answer though she wasn't too keen on it. With things settled, Artemis ventured out and away from the farmhouse. She pulled up the greenest vegetation she could find from grass with thick blades, to grass like strands of twine.   
In the distance she could hear Stella whinny.   
"She has to be the most impatient creature I've ever met," Artemis grumbled to herself. She had grass sticking out of her pockets, her shirt, and her arms were stuffed full of the stuff. If this didn't satisfy Stella's appetite, she doubted anything would.   
And, as if to prove a point of how hungry she was, Stella began to eat the grass sticking from Artemis' pockets before letting her set anything down.   
"Stella, you're very rude, you know that?" Artemis glowered. And if horses could smirk, she was certain Stella would have.   
— — —  
"Got any stories?" Calypso asked, following Artemis around again in the fields, only this time they were helping Zoë with evening chores.   
"Plenty," Artemis assured. "What kind of story do you want?"  
"One that's exciting! Full of adventure," Calypso decided.   
"Okay, but you have to stay quiet and help out while I tell it. Deal?"  
"Deal," Calypso grinned, shaking Artemis' outstretched hand.   
"About four years ago I was out riding at night with Stella like I usually do. We ended up climbing this really steep ridge, but just as we got to the top it started raining. And I mean, it was raining cats and dogs!" Artemis began, every now and then looking at the young girl to gauge her reaction to the story. "It was going to be too slippery to even attempt riding back down the ridge until the ground dried. So we fought our way through the storm and wind to this hillside with a massive tree. It was probably the biggest tree I've ever seen in my life. "  
"I doubt that," Calypso snorted.   
"Would I lie to you?" Artemis asked, arching a brow.   
"I suppose not. Continue."   
"Well, Stella and I made a straight shot for it. We ended up hiding under it in hopes of the storm ending. When it finally did we were both soaked to the bone and cold. Then, as the sun started to come up on the horizon I see smoke in the distance. Pillars of it. At first I thought maybe lightning had started some sort of fire, but next thing I know there's a load of buffalo coming across the plains." Artemis explained, moving her hands excitedly as she talked. "Turns out it wasn't smoke but a dust devil kicked up by these big animals. I saddled up quicker than I ever have before. You should have seen it and heard it. It was like a wave of moving land coming straight at us. A full on stampede. Boy we barely got out of there in one piece."   
"No way," Calypso gasped, eyes wide and excited. "You must have been so scared!"  
"I wasn't scared, I was amazed. Part of me just wanted to watch them. Of course I'd have been trampled to death but man, that would've been a hell of a way to go," Artemis whistled, shaking her head.   
"One day I'm gonna be just like you," Calypso breathed.   
"No you won't," Zoë countered, somehow having snuck up on them. She placed a gentle hand upon her sister's shoulder. "It's a dangerous way of living."  
"But it sounds so exciting," Calypso argued, leaning back against her sister.  
"I know," Zoë sighed, but her expression became sad, "but sometimes exciting things have a way of getting people hurt. Okay? No more talk about Cowboy things. Not tonight alright?"  
"Is it because of your mom? Did I make you upset?" Calypso worried, turning quickly around to hug Zoë tightly.   
"I'm not upset," the eldest sister replied, ruffling Calypso's hair. "Promise."  
— — —  
“There’s your spot,” Calypso huffed, having made up a place on her bedroom floor for Artemis. It consisted of a blanket and pillow.   
“Thank you, it looks quite nice,” Artemis lied, taking off her hat and laying down as Calypso clambered into her own bed.   
“Oh! Can you blow out the lantern. Sometimes I forget and Zoë gets mad cause the house could burn down,” Calypso laughed, batting her eyes at Artemis in an attempt to convince her to get up.   
“Alright, but you’re laying it on thick,” Artemis rolled her eyes, getting to her feet and crossing the room to blow out the light. “If I trip in the dark you better catch me.”   
“No promises Cowboy,” Calypso snickered. In the dark, Artemis could see the young girls light brown eyes sparkling with faint rays of moonlight leaking in through the shutters.   
“Goodnight, Small One.” Artemis mused, managing to stumble her way back to the spot on the floor.   
“Night,” Calypso yawned, closing her eyes and nestling down beneath the covers. Sighing, Artemis rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She wasn’t too sure what to make of this place. She liked it, she did, but there was a strange mixture of comfort and hostility. It was confusing to say the least and the more she thought about it, the worse her confusion got.   
In fact, she was so wrapped up in thought, that only the sound of a door hurriedly opening and shutting stirred her. Instinctively she reached for the handgun at her belt. But something was off. She could sense it.   
Swallowing tightly, she pulled on her hat and crept to the window. Ever so carefully, Artemis pulled back a shutter and peered outside. In the porchlight and moonlight she saw a set of silhouettes. One was very distinctly Zoë’s. She was shorter than the others, thinner, but the indignant stance was most notably hers. But there was another person Artemis recognized, and it made her blood boil.   
Before making any hasty movements, she listened carefully for the conversation at hand.   
“Pay up girlie, the boys and I are hungry,” sneered a gravelly voice.   
“You’re early,” Zoë argued. “I owe you nothing yet. If you can’t manage what I give you that’s not my fault.”  
“I’m asking for our shares now. As your client, I have a right to do that.”   
“You have the right to kiss my ass,” Zoë growled. In a lightning fast motion, the familiar figure had caught the farmgirl by the throat.   
“I was playing nice. I’m not anymore.”   
Slipping through the window, Artemis marched straight towards the altercation and without hesitating she placed the cold barrel of her gun against...Lycaon’s head. “Drop her. Now.”   
“Ooooh!” Lycaon grinned wolfishly. “What have we here?”  
“I said, drop her,” Artemis glared, pulling back the hammer of her gun.   
“I don’t take orders from you-“  
Before Lycaon could finish Artemis pointed her gun at one of his goons and fired a shot into the tip of his shoe without looking.   
“Boss-“ the man worried, looking at the hole in his shoe.   
“I’m the best shot this side of the West has. Try me and I take his toes off one by one and then yours.” In the moonlight, Artemis’ eyes looked like silver fires. Grudgingly, Lycaon released Zoë, though his handprint was still upon her skin.   
“Now, when were you going to tell me your worked for this asshole?” Artemis demanded, turning to glare at the farmgirl she’d just rescued, but she didn’t move the gun. She couldn’t bring herself to do it.   
“I don’t work for him,” Zoë rasped.   
“Then why is he here asking for something you owe him?”   
“You do know who she is don’t you?” Lycaon laughed. “This is just peachy! I mean the two of you? How have you not killed each other? I don’t even need to be here.”  
“I know who she is. I know who her father is,” Artemis insisted, turning her attention back to the insufferable man at hand. “I don’t care.”  
“Maybe you don’t but your daddy does. Wait until he hears about this.” Lycaon laughed sounding like a hyena.   
“Tell him. There’s a reason I’m here and not there.”  
“You have no idea what your brother is going through in the wake of your absence do you?” Lycaon asked.  
This caught Artemis offguard. Her anger faltered as did her passion. “He’s a grown man. He-he can manage on his own. He doesn’t need me.”  
“That’s where you’re wrong Arty-“  
“Do not call me that. No one calls me that!” Artemis hissed, her hands shaking.   
“Sorry, I forgot that was reserved for mommy dearest.” In a flash, Artemis was upon him in a blaze of fists and anger. The two toppled about in the dirt until Artemis came out on top. Despite his bloodied face, Lycaon laughed. “Temper, temper. Just like your daddy.”   
“What’s going on?” Calypso asked, having wandered outside.   
“Nothing, we’re just finishing up dear,” Lycaon wheezed as Artemis stepped on him on her way up. Though they were slow to leave, Lycaon and his group of idiots slowly meandered off.   
“What do you owe him?” Artemis demanded.   
“Don’t turn on me like I’m your enemy,” Zoë frowned, “I have never owed you an explanation for anything.”   
“Tell me.”  
“My father made a deal with him just before he went to jail. They get half of what we grow and make if they keep Olympus from taking our property,” Zoë rasped, her voice cracking. “Because your father wants everything and anything within reach. We didn’t have a choice.“  
“Fucking hell,” Artemis sighed, sitting on the porch steps. “I can’t get away from anyone.”  
“You made a choice to leave, you can’t choose who follows you.”   
“Don’t lecture me.” Artemis snapped. “I’m tired of being lectured.”   
“Would both of you stop?” Calypso demanded. “You’re so mean to each other. Why?”  
“Because I didn’t ask for her to be here Cally,” Zoë laughed without humor. “I didn’t ask for any of this but here I am.”  
“Yeah, well why didn’t you let me freeze when I was under that tree? If you didn’t want me around why save me from my own stupidity?” Artemis asked, standing up and turning around to face the girl that had been the source of her recent troubles.   
“Because-“  
“Because why?” Artemis demanded.  
“Because you remind me of my mom okay?” Zoë’s eyes fell to the floor boards. “Because she was like you and I thought-I don’t know! That maybe she somehow sent you here? That maybe she was actually looking out for me but I was stupid and foolish to think someone like you would actually be a blessing.”   
“Don’t sell me short,” Artemis shook her head. “I’m not someone to hate. I’ve done nothing but be kind.”  
“But you have! Don’t you get it? Ever since you’ve been here it’s been trouble. And now Lycaon-“ Zoë couldn’t bring herself to finish. She wiped furiously at her eyes. “God I can’t believe I’m crying in front of you.”   
“I’ll handle Lycaon,” Artemis promised. “I won’t let me dad take this place away from you. If that’s what you’re afraid of.”  
“It’s not the house I’m afraid of them taking,” Zoë choked out, and it was then that Artemis realized how tightly the farmgirl was gripping her little sister’s hand.   
“Small One?” Artemis asked.   
“Yeah?” Calypso looked expectantly at the auburn haired girl.   
“Can you get the matches from my saddle bag inside and delight the lanterns inside?”   
“Yeah!” Calypso nodded, eager to help she ran inside.   
“She won’t be gone long,” Zoë noted.  
“Yes, well, I don’t have any matches so she’ll be looking for forever,” Artemis admitted, moving slowly to pull the other girl into a hug. “What have they threatened you with?”  
“My dad offered her as collateral,” Zoë whispered, unable to bring herself to pull away. She hadn’t been held like this in years. Not since her mother died. “If things fell through here and we couldn’t pay our debts then Lycaon and his gang could take her instead.”   
“Does she know?”  
“No. How could I tell her that?” Zoë asked, meeting the damned ‘cowboy’s’ eyes. She was surprised to see how sad they were.   
“I’m not going to let them take her. I’d die before I let that happen. She’s a child. Even if she wasn’t a friend I’d kill a man before letting him touch a little girl.” Artemis’ voice was firm and her determination brought some small form of comfort to Zoë.   
“You’re just one person.”  
“I have the temper of a thousand moons,” Artemis replied.  
“Don’t you mean sun?”  
“No, because a moon is never angry. So when they are, the rage is far worse than any sun’s,” Artemis countered, pulling back from the hug and collecting her hat.   
“Where are you going?” Zoë asked, unprepared for the cold in Artemis’ absence of an embrace.   
“Home. I have a score to settle with my father.”


End file.
